


Say it, It's Yours

by Zafra



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Kink_me Merlin, M/M, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-25 21:19:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13843254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zafra/pseuds/Zafra
Summary: Arthur is a sap, but he can't show it like other people.





	1. The Shirt

**Author's Note:**

> Original Request was "While Arthur is fucking Merlin, he cannot help but grant every outrageous request Merlin makes." This was originally written as a fill to that on the LiveJournal, circa July 2010. The original request on Kink_Me Merlin was probably looking for more smut but hey. The boys do what they want. I filled this anonymously back in the day but hey - Guess who?! :)

It started innocently enough, as most things do. 

Merlin wasn’t even consciously asking for anything – being vocal was just part of his being; like magic. He didn’t think anything of his shameless begging and embarrassed pleading the next morning and Arthur didn’t bring it up, much to Merlin’s shock. So when he returned to his chambers a few mornings after the second time he’d been with Arthur to find a shirt of fine material draped on his cot he thought nothing of it. It suspiciously looked like the same one Arthur had worn a few nights ago that Merlin had run his fingers across adoringly as he quite heartily vocalized the way it seemed to make Arthur’s skin glow. But Arthur having a shirt made for him was a silly notion. Especially since it wasn’t the ugliest color in all of Albion or accompanied by a ridiculous hat. Why the tailor would bring Arthur’s new shirt to him instead of just taking it the Prince was a bit of mystery, but Merlin was used to mysteries by now. He had a brief thought about saying something else regarding the shirt – like how he wished he could have something similar because it was so soft, but he dismissed that quickly. 

Merlin grabbed it on his way to help Arthur don his armor for the daily practice with his knights. If the royal tailor saw fit for Merlin to deliver it, then deliver it he would.  
\-----------------------------------------------------

“You don’t like it?”

It took Merlin a few seconds to process what Arthur meant. “No, it’s wonderful. And soft. I’m sure it will look great on you, Sire.” 

Arthur looked at him with his usual air of ‘you’re mentally afflicted, Merlin’. “Of course it would. But it’s not mine.”

This time, Merlin realized he probably did look mentally afflicted. “You had a shirt made for me?”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Arthur looked confused and unsure for a moment, and Merlin couldn’t stand that look on him. 

“Oh! Yes, I did. Thank you.” Merlin looked up at Arthur, who was clearly not entirely convinced. “Thank you, Arthur. Really. Best shirt I’ve ever owned!” 

“Of course it is! Honestly, I have no idea how you stand those flea-ridden sacks you wear.”

“They don’t have fleas, Arthur,” Merlin replied dryly. They’d been having this argument over Merlin’s clothes subtly for awhile. Ever since Arthur’s secretly-successful tournament. Merlin told himself that’s all this was; Arthur giving himself an excuse to get Merlin something nice without having anyone else around to wonder why. He smiled a genuine smile and Arthur visibly relaxed. They finished readying Arthur for the practice grounds in near-silence. It wasn’t until Merlin stepped-back to let Arthur move around and ensure Merlin had indeed gotten the fit correct that the silence was broken. 

“I want you to wear it, tonight. For me.”

It was said so matter-of-fact, like ‘muck-out my stables, Merlin’ or ‘polish my boots when you’re done with the armor’ that no one else would have had cause to even pay attention. The face-splitting grin Merlin gave Arthur would have drawn attention, though. “Yeah?”

The moment was gone when Arthur cuffed him upside the head. “I’d like you to accompany me to the practice field, today. I think we need to take you through some drills, as well.” 

Merlin groaned. “Why, Arthur? I don’t need to fight.” 

“Tell that to all the un-friendly bandits and druids we meet on the road.” 

Merlin huffed, but followed Arthur, anyway. He left the shirt on Arthur’s bed, possessing at least enough self-preservation not to be seen carrying it around. It was difficult to keep his grin in check thinking about the possibility that shirt might not last through the night, but he made a great deal of effort.

He failed.


	2. Of Food And Kinks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur keeps listening to Merlin and granting requests.

In retrospect, it was completely Arthur’s fault, of course. Merlin would have never missed not having the shirt and it would have been just mere words between them. There was no reason to give it form – meaning. So, clearly the fact that Merlin was currently sneaking down to the palace kitchens for a plate of fruit or cheese – anything he could find, really - was entirely Arthur’s fault. Of course Merlin was the one who vocalized his desire during their make out session - something along the lines of ‘Arthur, your mouth, love watching you eat’. Or, um, yeah. It was something like that. Which prompted Arthur to decide he wanted Merlin to feed him.

Right. Now.

Merlin had certainly been glad for his magic in times of danger, but for times where magic was useful in non-life-threatening situations, this took the prize. As he silently snuck into the kitchens, he wondered for not the first time what magic Arthur must possess in order to get him to do outrageous stuff like this. Spying a seemingly discarded plate half-full of late-summer berries and cheese from the King’s dinner he did a double-check to make sure no one was around to see it disappear, grabbed it with all the grace he could muster and hurried back to Arthur’s chambers.

“I found some cheese and berries…” Merlin looked around at the seemingly empty chamber. “Arthur?”

“Here, Merlin.” Arthur emerged from behind his dressing screen clad only in his sleeping pants. 

Merlin’s mouth went dry. 

The first time they had been together was frantic and fumbling. They didn’t even make it to any chamber; just had a quick rut against each other in a hidden alcove. The second time took place here, but still had an air of desperation surrounding it. Merlin realized both of them had been sure the other would stop and call a halt to the whole thing. As Arthur stood there taking-in Merlin, the plate and letting his gaze just travel slowly over all of him Merlin shuddered with the realization that this was actually happening. Nothing ventured, nothing gained – Merlin placed the platter on the table and shucked the shirt Arthur had requested he wear. Earlier he had been amused by the thought it might get ruined. Now, he wanted to keep the shirt for a very, very long time. Picking up a berry, he sat in the chair at the table and held out his fingers. “Berry?” 

Arthur, never one to back away from a challenge, slowly made his way across his chambers, eyes fixed on Merlin’s fingers. Casually leaning against the table, Arthur bent slightly and slowly sucked the berry into his mouth. His soft blue eyes never stopped looking at Merlin and it took all his willpower not to jump Arthur right there against the table. Instead, Merlin picked-up another berry and held it out, making sure to have a firmer grasp on it. Arthur smirked at Merlin’s boldness, but didn’t waiver. He took the proffered berry and the tips of Merlin’s fingers in his mouth, using his tongue to loosen the fruit from his grasp. Merlin just sat there, fascinated by Arthur’s mouth slowly chewing the berry. Arthur was still staring, but now his gaze travelled to Merlin’s berry-stained fingers. Merlin let out a little gasp when Arthur grabbed his palm and brought those fingers to his mouth, licking the faint stain of juice off each one. “Sod the berries,” Merlin muttered and grabbed Arthur’s hand, dragging him to the bed. Arthur laughed, allowing himself to be pulled-along.

\----------------------------------------------------

Merlin brought the Prince his breakfast the next morning, as always. He was not expecting the day to start out quite the way it did, however. Arthur was already awake, though not dressed, sprawled across his dining chair staring at the remnants of the plate Merlin had confiscated from the kitchen late last night. Merlin bustled in, willing to keep up their silent agreement regarding how they treated each other during daylight hours. “Good morning, sire.” Arthur said nothing, just continued to stare at the plate. “Something wrong, Arthur?” Merlin put down the platter with breakfast and Arthur was on him immediately, hands everywhere. 

“I’m supposed to be on patrol in an hour,” Arthur mumbled in the shell of Merlin’s ear. 

“Rii..right,” Merlin stuttered. “We should get you dressed.”

“Mmmm. That would be a good plan.” Arthur didn’t let up his assault, though, kissing down Merlin’s neck, nibbling on his earlobes as his hands travelled up under his shirt.

“Prudent,” Merlin gasped as Arthur’s fingers found a nipple and proceeded to pinch.   
“I bet you’d be so ready for me when you got back if we stopped right now,” Merlin whispered low in Arthur’s ear. He didn’t mean anything by it, really. After all, he had dealt with similar circumstances long before he was actively able to work them out with Arthur, versus alone in his room. He knew it was true. He also knew that if they allowed themselves to get started he would probably end up in the stocks. Again.

Arthur pulled back, giving Merlin a look that didn’t entirely make him comfortable. “Are you saying you don’t want me?” It was a teasing tone, but low – dangerous.

“Oh, no, I do, Arthur. Believe me.” Merlin punctuated his desire by grabbing Arthur’s hips and acquainting him with his entirely interested cock. “But, I really, really don’t want to go from being in your bed to being in the stocks, today.” He smiled and kissed Arthur, hoping he would understand. Breaking the kiss, he was encouraged when Arthur resumed his exploration of Merlin’s skin. “I want to walk around all day after we’re done with a stupid grin on my face. I want everyone to wonder who put it there.” 

Arthur scoffed, “I’m quite sure most of the castle will believe it was me, anyway.”

“Yeah, but they won’t know – not really.” Merlin grinned and nipped at Arthur’s lobe, encouraged by how he hadn’t yet pressed the issue by trying to remove his pants. “C’mon, Arthur, it’ll be brilliant. You’ll see.” Merlin looked directly at Arthur and saw exactly what he wanted reflected back at him. “I’ll do whatever you want, Arthur. When you get back.” Merlin let his head fall forward bringing their foreheads together. “I mean it. Anything.”

Arthur got a completely predatory look that under other circumstances might have caused opponents to give up. “I’m gonna hold you to that, Merlin.” 

Merlin just grinned and broke away, busying himself with getting Arthur’s clothes and armor set out. He definitely needed a moment to recover and he was sure Arthur did, as well. Luckily this was only a town patrol. Arthur would be back in a few hours, tired, sweaty and entirely in need of distraction. 

Merlin grinned to himself thinking about the types of distraction he would be providing.


	3. The Smut Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur grants Merlin everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally getting into the smut the original prompt was most likely looking for!

Merlin was often grateful for his nimble fingers. Dressing Arthur, buckling and un-buckling his armor – Merlin was grateful that his fingers usually cooperated with these daily tasks. 

Then, there were other uses for his fingers, which he was growing more aware of by the day. Like the way Arthur’s hair felt when he grabbed it or the way his cock slowly filled under Merlin’s ministrations. In this particular case, he was awed at how the slightest brush of his fingertips across Arthur’s skin made him tremble. 

He had started this new, unhurried exploration of his lover’s body after patrol. Arthur came back sweaty, aggravated and slightly tense. Merlin had suggested a massage and Arthur flopped down on his bed in answer. Trying not to smile so Arthur wouldn’t call him ‘a bloody girl’, Merlin carefully removed Arthur’s armor and clothing, gently pushing and prodding at his body until he had his prince exactly as he was now: sprawled naked on his stomach across his bed, head turned toward the windows. Merlin took a moment to appreciate the way Arthur looked in the harsh sunlight. 

Giving up all pretenses that he was doing this as Arthur’s manservant, Merlin shucked his clothing quietly and grabbed a bottle of oil from the dresser before climbing onto the bed to kneel beside his prince. The air in the castle was warm, not stifling but clement enough that Merlin was not afraid to dribble the oil directly onto Arthur’s back. Replacing the stopper, he ran his fingers through the slick liquid, spreading it in uneven patterns across Arthur’s skin. He could feel the tension underneath, the coiled stress buried deep inside muscles too adept at carrying the extra burden. 

Merlin decided, then, that his mission was to make Arthur relax. He wasn’t sure the muscles he felt under Arthur’s fair skin were even capable, but Merlin was determined. He spread his hands wide, palms digging into the small of Arthur’s back and spreading out from there. He repeated the motion, slowly moving his hands upwards towards Arthur’s tense shoulders. He’d not had much practice at this, but Arthur didn’t seem to mind. At least the little sighs and groans Arthur kept making sounded more pleasured than pained, despite Merlin’s inexperience. 

After a quick moment of deliberation, Merlin swung his leg over Arthur’s thighs, to sit just below the curve of his arse. There was no way Arthur could ignore the hard length now pressing very suggestively against him. The slight press upward of his hips made Merlin grin wickedly. Using his already slick hands, he began to slowly knead the flesh of Arthur’s arse, loving the feel of the powerful muscles relaxing under his touch. Arthur liked it too, if the increased groans and ragged breathing was any indication. It was self-indulgent he knew, but when was he ever going to get this opportunity? Merlin alternated between massaging Arthur’s backside and running his palms over Arthur’s muscular body. It seemed to be working; Merlin could feel the muscles gradually releasing their tension under his ministrations.

It was also quite spectacular every time his cock dragged between Arthur’s crack. 

Merlin supposed unless he wanted this to be over much sooner than anticipated, he ought to stop rutting against Arthur’s arse. 

Like, now.

“Turn over, Arthur,” he murmured as he moved off his thighs. For a moment Arthur didn’t move at all and Merlin had cause to wonder if he’d fallen asleep. 

“Only if you promise not to stop.”

Merlin smiled. “I won’t stop.”

Arthur rolled over slowly onto his back, seemingly slack-limbed and relaxed. Merlin wasn’t entirely fooled. He knew that this probably was relaxed for Arthur, but nowhere near the state he was aiming for. Seeing no reason to stop being bold now, Merlin climbed back on top of Arthur, straddling his hips this time. He drizzled more oil onto Arthur’s chest and continued his rubdown. This time, it was worse as Merlin’s erection came flush against Arthur’s own. Every slight movement and press of flesh caused delicious friction that threatened Merlin’s tenuous control. On the next upward motion Merlin moaned aloud, unable to contain his arousal.

“What do you want, Merlin?” Arthur’s gaze was heavy-lidded and Merlin couldn’t suppress the lust that surged through him, knowing he had created this. “I know what you want to ask – just say it.”

“Sssh, Arthur.” Merlin placed his index finger lightly over Arthur’s parted lips. “This isn’t about me. Just relax.” He made to continue the massage, but Arthur had other plans. Merlin found himself grabbed, flipped over and pinned under Arthur’s weight. 

“How can this not be about you?” Arthur’s voice was rough and low as he placed light kisses across Merlin’s collarbones and shoulders. Merlin’s hips raised a bit to gain friction against Arthur’s warm skin. 

“…Ungh…needed to relax…” Merlin wrestled an arm from where his lover had practically pinned them at his sides and grabbed Arthur’s hair in a vain attempt to stop him. 

Arthur laughed softly, shaking his head. “I am very relaxed, Merlin. You may be a terrible manservant but as a lover you do seem to have many more redeeming qualities. Which reminds me… I do believe you said you’d do ‘anything’ I wanted.” Arthur punctuated the sentence by ducking his head and laving a pert nipple with his tongue. “And I want to do anything you want.”

Merlin’s hand, still in Arthur’s hair, loosened as he concentrated on running the blond strands through his fingers. “There is something. But we don’t have to…”

Arthur silenced further protest by instigating a wet, filthy kiss that had Merlin bucking up and making undignified noises in the back of his throat. “I…I want you, Arthur,” Merlin whispered when the kiss finally stopped. “I want to fuck you.” Arthur didn’t say anything for a moment and Merlin felt sure he had pushed too far. Then, wordlessly, Arthur rolled off him and sprawled on the bed, legs wide. 

“Really?” He hated that he sounded so high-pitched, but this was more than he anticipated. Sometimes he forgot how much Arthur trusted him, how fond of him Arthur actually was – this was going to happen. 

“Oil, Merlin.” Arthur held out the same bottle Merlin had used for the massage, and Merlin took it carefully. His fingers were soft from the oil, but not slick. He opened the bottle again, trying very hard not to stop looking at Arthur. He liked this look on his lover – open, trusting. Slicking one finger, he slowly ran it down the crease from Arthur’s sac. “Pillow,” he prompted Arthur.

They hadn’t been doing this long, but Merlin supposed the closeness they had always shared explained their easy harmony. Without Merlin having to say more, Arthur grabbed another pillow from the bed, pushing it under his hips. Merlin had no idea if this was Arthur’s first time and he really didn’t want to know. He pretended it was, going slow and taking his cues from the noises Arthur was making. Merlin slid a second finger in and Arthur’s breath hitched. “Ok?”

“Don’t stop.” 

It was a command, a plea. Merlin crooked his fingers, feeling for the spot that would unhinge Arthur completely. He hit gold and Arthur gasped and bucked his hips in pleasure.. “Gods, Merlin…” Arthur moaned. 

“I don’t want to stop,” Merlin whispered to Arthur’s chest, kissing his skin reverently. “You’re so gorgeous like this, Arthur.” Merlin withdrew from his lover, added oil and a third finger. The hiss was short but gave Merlin pause. Arthur grabbed his wrist as if anticipating his next move.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” Arthur’s gaze was piercing and Merlin had no choice but to obey. He barely managed to stop the ‘yes, sire’ from escaping his mouth. He worked his fingers as gently as possible until the noises from his lover made it impossible to wait. 

“Are you ready?” Merlin sounded impatient to his own ears, but Arthur merely nodded and let his eyes fall shut.

There was no holding back but Merlin wasn’t fully prepared for the sensation of being inside Arthur. He knew he was probably moving too quickly when he felt some of Arthur’s fading tension return as his lover stiffened beneath him. He tried to slow down but it felt impossible. The tightness was unlike anything he’d experienced before and it threatened to undo him when he’d barely gotten started. He looked up at Arthur, hoping to regain some stability from his reactions and moaned at the sight. Arthur’s blue eyes seemed to pierce through him, gazing at him like he knew his innermost thoughts. Arthur grabbed for Merlin’s head, bringing him down for a bruising kiss. Merlin couldn’t do anything after that except set up a frenzied pace, their thighs slapping together, Merlin’s hands grabbing Arthur wherever his hands could gain purchase on his sweat-slicked skin. He broke the kiss and pushed Arthur’s legs apart, sinking in just a fraction deeper. 

“Fuck.” Arthur kissed him again, making it extremely difficult for Merlin to think of anything beyond where their bodies were connected. Arthur’s hand came up to grab one of Merlin’s, shoving it none too gently towards his leaking cock. Merlin groaned into Arthur’s mouth and took the hint, jacking him in time with his own thrusts. Neither of them was going to last long but he didn’t care. The tongue shoved in his mouth and the sweaty hands on his body gave him all the clues he needed to conclude that Arthur didn’t care much, either. 

Arthur’s harsh breathing and wide-eyed expression were the only warning Merlin got before Arthur was spilling all over Merlin’s hand. Seeing the raw emotion displayed on Arthur’s face was all Merlin needed and he spilled himself inside Arthur before collapsing on his chest, panting. 

“Merlin.” 

Merlin groaned, not yet wanting to get up but knowing it was exactly what Arthur wanted. Finding nothing to clean them off within reach, he slowly pulled-out, rolling off Arthur and flopping onto his back next to his prince. “Just give me a minute, Arthur.” Barely seconds went by before he heard Arthur’s voice.

“Minute’s up.” 

“Hey!” Merlin couldn’t help but chuckle and when he looked over, he saw equal mirth in Arthur’s expression, despite his sticky chest. “You’re closer if it’s bothering you that much.”

“But it’s your job.”

Merlin pushed himself up to sitting, and couldn’t resist taking a half-hearted swipe at Arthur. “Prat.”

As he padded over to their heap of discarded clothing and grabbed his neckerchief to wipe Arthur off, Arthur assured Merlin that, once they were recovered, he had a rather detailed list of all the chores Merlin would have to complete for his prince.


	4. Role Reversal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin wants. And then takes control.

Merlin really wasn’t paying attention today - that was definitely true. Arthur’s ire was not always justified, but just this once, Merlin could admit he was actually not paying much attention to what he was supposed to be doing. His brain was still replaying the loop of the previous day’s romp with Arthur. Honestly, Merlin had no idea how he’d gotten through the rest of the afternoon after said romp. 

Especially since Arthur seemed to be so bloody good at it. 

Merlin had to duck into several convenient alcoves and create every foul image he could conjure up, in the hopes of preventing his erection from fully forming. Of course, he had nothing to compare yesterday’s particular experience to, but Merlin had heard stories from other servants and drunkards in the taverns he’d occasionally visited. He was pretty sure Arthur was a perfectly wonderful shag – made more so by the fact that Merlin was the one who shagged him.

Merlin gave up trying to force the issue and ducked into the winter storage pantry for a quick wank. He knew he didn’t have long, but the mental image from the previous day – Arthur sprawled before him, slack-limbed and unconcerned with status – made it easy. He bit down on his fist to keep from alerting anyone with his moans and cries before wiping himself down with his neckerchief and stuffing it in his pocket. He knew it was a signature of sorts for him, and he briefly wondered if anyone would notice that he’d seemed to abandon that particular look lately. He reached out with his magic, not wanting to be discovered sneaking out of the pantry alone. Plenty of servants were spied leaving in pairs, but that was never openly discussed. Merlin was pretty sure he didn’t want to be the one being gossiped about leaving alone. He could get some whenever he wanted now. He just couldn’t reveal to the entire castle who he was getting it from.

Frankly, he was fine with that. The less idle talk about Arthur’s abilities in bed, the better, Merlin reasoned. It wouldn’t do for the future king to get a reputation. Never mind that anyone daring to touch his future king would find themselves transported to somewhere vile.

He was feeling practically normal when he finally made it to the palace kitchen to retrieve dinner for Arthur. He wasn’t sure why the cook gave him a weird look, but regardless, he didn’t pay much attention. He was on a mission – this meal was to be served in Arthur’s chambers. Which meant Arthur was alone.

Waiting for him.

Merlin felt the familiar ache stirring yet again and tried to keep a straight face. The sooner he could get to Arthur, the better.

Merlin practically sprinted up the steps from the lower kitchen to Arthur’s chambers overlooking the courtyard. Since he was the manservant, after all, he gave up on knocking quite a while ago. “I brought your dinner…” the rest of the sentence died on his lips. Arthur was spread-eagled on his massive bed, cock-in-hand and thoroughly enjoying himself if Merlin was interpreting the noises he was making correctly. Arthur’s eyes darted to the door and he made to remove his hand – until he saw Merlin standing there. 

“Oh, thank the gods it’s you, Merlin. Get over here, you idiot.”

Dinner forgotten, Merlin hastily dropped the platter onto the table and rushed toward the bed. He spared a moment to just stare at Arthur and appreciate his whole body which was on display for Merlin alone. He wasn’t sure what Arthur expected him to do exactly, so he busied himself with removing his clothing. It was difficult to do that and try to keep his eyes on the delicious sight of Arthur stroking his cock. He knew he was staring but he couldn’t help himself. Watching the head, slick with pre-come, disappearing slowly into Arthur’s fist only to re-emerge just as slowly was making his mouth water. Merlin didn’t even bother asking for permission – he just climbed onto the bed and bent over Arthur, his tongue laving at his cock and fingers - whatever part of Arthur he could get into his mouth. 

“Fuck…” Arthur groaned as he let his hands fall away, giving Merlin complete access. 

Merlin, for his part, was content to simply hum around Arthur’s cock, too busy paying attention to all the different sounds he could coax out of his lover. He wasn’t terribly proficient at this yet, but Arthur never seemed to mind. As with the other things he’d done with Arthur, Merlin preferred to pretend he was the first one to make Arthur feel this way. Maybe he was – Arthur certainly looked at him as if Merlin was the first to make him feel like this. Merlin certainly didn’t care about specifics, just reaction. Even if Arthur had done this one hundred times before, Merlin wanted every time after to be only about him. He wanted Arthur’s conscious thoughts to be of him and how he felt under Merlin’s careful attentions. He grasped Arthur’s cock with his long fingers, dipping his head and licking up the sensitive underside with his tongue. Varying the stokes of his tongue, no two licks the same, Merlin continued his attentions until Arthur made a noise above him and unconsciously ground his hips upward, chasing Merlin’s mouth. Merlin smiled to himself and rewarded Arthur with a gentle suck to his cockhead. Arthur was having none of that, of course, bucking his hips and forcing his erection further down Merlin’s throat. It wasn’t far enough to make Merlin gag, and he pulled off with a tut. “You’re not helping, sire.”

“Merlin…” Arthur whined and it was music to Merlin’s ears.

“What do you want, Arthur?” Merlin crooned. “Tell me and I’ll do it.”

“Suck me,” Arthur gasped.

Merlin teased him a little, taking the crown in past his lips, licking around the head before releasing him again. 

“You damn tease!” Arthur sounded a little aggravated and Merlin knew he’d be on his back pretty soon if he didn’t do something.   
Merlin only chuckled briefly before taking Arthur’s cock into his mouth as far as he could, swallowing around the urge to gag. It mostly worked and as he came up a bit, Arthur groaned.   
“You know you like me teasing you, Arthur.” Merlin suckled the head again, and then dipped down to lave attention onto Arthur’s balls. He found out Arthur was actually ticklish there, and moved back to licking Arthur’s cock in broad strokes. When he was feeling bolder, he once again took as much of it into his mouth as he could, sucking for all he was worth. Arthur seemed appreciative of the effort – so Merlin did it again. It didn’t seem to matter than Merlin couldn’t quite get the entire length in his mouth at once – he compensated by using his tongue to lap at the flesh that wasn’t quite encased in his wet lips. It meant less suction, but Arthur seemed to appreciate, even prefer, the thought and the extra attention. Merlin kept it up and Arthur’s vocal appreciation seemed to grow.

“Oh, Gods, Merlin… yes… like that, fuck…”

Merlin felt his own erection throbbing in response to Arthur’s verbal praise. He wanted to crawl up his prince and fuck him senseless; he wasn’t sure if he could get away with that right now though. He looked up at Arthur’s face, lips still wrapped around Arthur’s cock – it was a glorious sight, Arthur’s lips slightly parted, breath coming in heavy pants. Merlin wanted to completely undo him like this, even if it meant he got nothing in return.

he sight before him would fuel an age of wank fantasies once Arthur tired of him. The morose part of Merlin’s brain knew that, at some point, Arthur would be King and need a proper Queen. And Merlin wasn’t the type to stand in the way.  
Except right now. He forcefully shut down that line of thinking and renewed his efforts to suck Arthur’s brains right out of his cock. From the increased volume of noises, he was doing a pretty good job.

“Merlin, fuck… you’re so good… so good to me…”

Merlin smiled around Arthur’s prick, licking at the sensitive spot near the bottom he’d found by accident. Arthur moaned even louder, bucking up involuntarily. Merlin pulled back a little bit.

“How good am I, Arthur?” Merlin was feeling high on the responses he was getting, more than willing to forgo protocol if Arthur was.

“Fuck… Merlin I’d make you stay chained to this bed… oh, shit…”

Arthur wasn’t much for conversation, but Merlin was pretty sure that was a compliment. He wanted to hear something else, though. He bobbed down on Arthur’s cock, twisting his tongue around the head to lick at the most sensitive spot where he knew it would drive Arthur mad. Pulling up, he couldn’t help himself –   
“Would you serve me, Arthur? For making you feel this way? Say it… say it, Arthur…” Merlin had no idea how much the idea turned him on until he gave voice to it. His erection grew and he humped against Arthur’s mattress trying to gain some friction on his sensitive cock.

“Yes!” Arthur cried. “Yes, Merlin, god I would give you anything… anything you bloody want, just say it…”

Merlin increased his pace, licking with his tongue as he brought his lips down on Arthur’s cock. Grasping the base firmly with his fingers, he withdrew his mouth, lazily stroking as he worked his body up to lick at Arthur’s nipples.

“Fuck!” was Arthur’s coherent response as he grabbed a fistful of Merlin’s hair, effectively pining him to his chest.

Merlin chuckled and Arthur put pressure on his head, dragging him up for a kiss. “I don’t believe your innocent farm-boy act for a minute, you know,” Arthur growled. “I plan to erase any memories of the dirty, unworthy bastards you learned these tricks from.”  
Merlin stared at Arthur a bit awe-struck, then kissed him gently savoring the feel of Arthur’s lips on his own. Arthur was having none of that, however, and kissed him back with passion, tongue twining with his and licking his palate. When they broke, Merlin looked at Arthur, and down his body to where Merlin’s fingers were barely stroking his cock. “What do you want, Arthur?”   
Merlin truly was up for anything. Just being there with Arthur after dark, no chores, orders or titles standing in their way, was enough for him .   
Arthur looked up at him as if he held all the answers – Merlin supposed sometimes he might; now was not one of those times. “Tell me, Arthur. Tell me what you want and I’ll grant your request. Always.”

Merlin hadn’t meant it any other way than honestly being willing to grant Arthur anything. He figured Arthur knew that by now – even before they had engaged in this aspect of their relationship.

“Is that what you want, Merlin?” Arthur gave him a searching look and Merlin was momentarily confused as to what he was talking about. “You want me to serve you? Worship you?” Arthur gently adjusted them so he could roll over on top of Merlin, pinning him to the bed. Unlike times past, instead of immediately attacking him with lips and tongue he merely ran his hands through Merlin’s short locks. Merlin gasped and Arthur must have taken that for an affirmative.

“What can I do for you, Merlin,” Arthur murmured, placing feather-light kisses to the shell of his ear. “I’ll do anything for you. Anything,” Arthur punctuated his declaration by grinding their erections together.

“Is that the way to address me?” Merlin gasped, feeling completely out of his depth but turned on beyond belief. Never let it be said he wasn’t a quick study, though. He wasn’t really expecting Arthur’s next words. Honest.  
“What can I do for you…sire…” Arthur looked straight at him when he said it, hands idly stroking the hair behind his ears and Merlin nearly lost it right then.   
“Oh, god, Arthur…” Merlin bucked up into him, trying to distract himself from the words that Arthur had just uttered so casually.   
“Tell me, sire,” Arthur breathed in his ear. “Tell me what you want from me. I’ll do anything to make you happy.”

Merlin had to shut his eyes at the images coming to his brain unhindered. The sound of Arthur’s voice, soft and supplicating - Merlin imagined there were those out there who might abuse the power Arthur was giving him now – but Merlin was not one of those people. He kissed Arthur’s jaw, brought a hand up to his chin and aligned their faces once again to stare straight at him. “Fuck me, Arthur. Take me like only you can. That’s all I ever want.”  
Arthur groaned at that. 

“As you wish,” he whispered as he placed sucking, biting kisses down Merlin’s torso. Arthur seemed to feel it was his turn to torture Merlin, as he slid his lips over his cock suckling gently on the tip. Arthur didn’t let up and Merlin was writhing beneath him within minutes.

“Arthur, oh…stop, please…” Merlin was practically begging but he was used to it and didn’t have the energy to assimilate to his temporary role.

“Why?” Only Arthur could make that short a word drag out in a sensual way. Merlin was pretty sure of that.

“I want you to be completely mine,” Arthur growled. “I want you boneless, compliant – I want you to feel me with every inch of you.”

“Nnggghhh…” wasn’t coherent, but Merlin was beyond caring. He supposed with practice maybe he could stand-up to Arthur in his fully dominating mode, but for now he was rubbish against its assault and content to be that way. Arthur resumed his attentions and Merlin bucked and mewled beneath him, trying to withstand the sensations. It was too much – he came down Arthur’s throat, gasping at the feeling of Arthur’s mouth still wrapped around his sensitive cock. His lover pulled off gently, giving the underside a final lick and causing Merlin to whimper and lift his hips once more. Sated, he relaxed fully into the soft mattress, closing his eyes and allowing himself a few moments to savor the afterglow before Arthur would surely demand he return the attention. Lost in his own thoughts of what pleasures he would give Arthur, Merlin’s eyes flew open at the first touch of an oiled finger at his entrance. Arthur must have been expecting his reaction and he smirked before leaning down and pressing his lips softly to Merlin’s. 

“Like I said,” Arthur’s breath hot against Merlin’s lips, “boneless. Pliant.”   
He breeched Merlin with his finger slowly and it felt more wonderful in that moment than ever before. Arthur added the second finger with little hesitation and Merlin groaned at the welcomed invasion.

“You just like me….aaaah…not complaining,” was Merlin’s semi-coherent response.

“Too much talking,” Arthur admonished. “You wanted me to fuck you and I’m going to.” Arthur hadn’t ceased his preparations of Merlin and only removed his fingers now to replace them with his slick cock.

With the edge of his own need temporarily removed, Merlin was free to concentrate solely on his lover. He kept his eyes open, taking in every inch of skin displayed before him; every shift of muscle, every quiver that spoke of barely contained control. He explored with fingers and lips, every inch of Arthur’s body he could touch . He ran flat palms across his back, nipped at his collarbones and licked a bead of sweat dripping down Arthur’s neck. Arthur hadn’t wavered from the slow pace he’d set and Merlin was content to stay in the too-big bed, connected to this moment, the full moon casting the only light on their coupling. Even with the slow, contented pace his lover had set, Merlin’s body couldn’t stay relaxed forever. He felt the familiar stirring in his groin as his own cock took a renewed interest in the proceedings. Arthur smiled and kissed him passionately, greatly fueling Merlin’s arousal.

“I knew you couldn’t resist me,” Arthur whispered against his lips after breaking the kiss.

“I’m only human,” Merlin grinned. “It’s biological.”

Arthur growled and re-arranged himself to sit between Merlin’s legs, holding his ankles. His slower pace was forgotten as he increased the tempo, the obscene noises where their bodies met matched by the grunting and cursing from above.

“Fuck,” Merlin moaned.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Arthur panted.

Merlin wasn’t in the mood for games and didn’t rise to the bait. As he lowered his hand to his cock, Arthur batted it away and Merlin whined.

“Not yet,” Arthur admonished.

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing what I want?” Merlin sounded petulant to his own ears, but he didn’t care. “If you want to do it yourself, then get to it. I want to come.”

“Aren’t you just greedy,” Arthur chuckled. “Already once and still can’t wait.”

“You’re serving me, remember?” Merlin groused.

“Just taking my cues from my own manservant,” was Arthur’s cheeky reply.

Merlin’s answer was to use whatever leverage he had available to push back onto Arthur’s cock, forcing him to change his rhythm. Arthur seemed to give up at that point, hips snapping forward roughly, driving Merlin back onto the bed with each thrust. 

“Touch yourself,” Arthur commanded.

Merlin wasn’t even going to pretend to challenge that one. “Yes…yes…Arthur…” Merlin spilled hot and sticky over his hand, Arthur following inside him, moments later. After several heartbeats of panting and catching breath, Arthur flopped down next to Merlin on the bed.   
“Next time, Merlin, I expect the same treatment.”

Merlin half-heartedly smacked him with a pillow.

"A bit demanding, aren't we," Merlin laughed. "Guess I'm back to being the servant."


	5. Thrones are for Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst. And Throne Sex.

Arthur was going to be his undoing from now on. It was official.

The week had him picking herbs for Gaius and scrubbing the physician’s quarters in preparation for winter’s coming, helping the castle staff decorate for the upcoming Mabon feast and even overseeing the care of Arthur's other horses when the normal stable hand fell ill.

In short? Merlin was physically exhausted.

The work itself was tedious though and that was the inherent problem. It wasn’t enough to stop his over-active imagination from keeping him awake at night far longer than he should be with wanton fantasies of what he was going to do when Arthur got back from patrolling the Eastern border.   
He imagined dragging Arthur into the winter pantry. Imagined giving another servant the ‘pleasure’ of serving the Crown Prince at the dinner table whilst Merlin served him quite well from underneath. Mostly, he imagined every possible way he could distract Arthur from doing anything else he was supposed to be doing so that he could do dirty, filthy things with his manservant.   
Merlin was doomed. He loved every minute of it, mind. But still – doomed.

In the beginning, when he’d realized there might be more to the whole ‘destiny-coin’ thing than the Dragon might have even realized, Merlin’s sole concern had been Arthur. He hadn’t wanted to put any stress on his future king. The thought of taking Arthur away from his kingdom – his future – was what kept Merlin away.  
So it seemed ironic that now he’d do just about anything to tear Arthur away from anything that didn’t include Merlin, preferably with him naked and panting above or below his prince.

Really – Merlin wasn’t the picky sort.

Yes, he was aware that he should count himself lucky that the object of his affections was willing to indulge in this – whatever this was. Thinking about the future and Arthur with a much larger crown on his head caused Merlin a less-pleasant feeling than thinking about the carefree and indulgent Arthur he enjoyed now. Avoidance was blissfully easy in his life. He managed to ignore quite a bit for large stretches of time (threat-of-death, his mum nearly dying, killing Nimueh) but this was the first time he was trying to avoid thinking about something that brought him pleasure. Arthur’s company had always brought him comfort in the past, it was true – but this went beyond mere comfort. Arthur was still his friend, of that Merlin was sure. But now there was an added layer to it all and Merlin wasn’t sure what to make of it. Sighing, he tossed the brush into the bucket with more force than necessary, causing water to slosh over the edges.

“Well, sadly it’s confirmed you’re not just putting on a show for my benefit.”

The sly mocking was unmistakable. Merlin could practically see the crossed arms and upturned lips in his mind before he turned around to be greeted by the real thing. “Arthur!” Merlin got up quickly, nearly losing his balance as he slipped on a wet patch of floor. The scowl he received as he looked at Arthur brought back their old dynamic. “Sure, just let me slip and fall! Who will mend your shirts and care for your armor then?!”

“Someone much more qualified, I’m sure.”

The prat. He was smiling. “Oh, well, don’t let me stop you, sire. By all means go find yourself a qualified manservant. Someone more practiced and professional…” Merlin let the sentence die on his lips as he took in Arthur’s positively angry stance and closed-off expression. Closing the distance between them as much as he dared knowing that he was scrubbing the hallway near the throne room, Merlin whispered in a tone he hoped Arthur would hear. “I would never let you, you know.”

Arthur seemed to relax perceptibly, though not much. “I’m the Crown Prince, Merlin. A fact you seem to forget on a regular basis. If I sack you – you’re gone.”

“I thought I had redeeming qualities.” Merlin grinned like an idiot at Arthur’s eye roll and the unfolding of his arms.

“Idiot.”

Arthur ruffled his hair and went into the throne room to report on the state of the border.

Merlin continued his current chore of scrubbing the hallway where someone – not him, for once - had dropped one of Gaius' draughts. Merlin didn’t know what was in it but it had turned into a rather unsightly, sticky spot on the floor. Since Gaius was obviously too old to be scrubbing and the fool who dropped it too high in station, the illustrious job fell to Merlin.

Of course.

Every so often, he would catch a raised voice, or a chorus of arguments from the throne room. He wondered just what *was* the state of the border to be causing so much concern. Normally these things were a cut and dried affair. Uther would call his son forward to report, Arthur would stand proud and tall, telling his father what he needed to know about the state of the towns, if more patrols were needed, if anything was disrupting the people. Uther would possibly ask a few questions and depending on Arthur’s answers the king might scowl a bit, but then he would dismiss the prince and it would be done.   
Merlin was pretty sure he’d scrubbed-off the offending stain at least half-an-hour ago and they were still in session. Giving-up under threat of his arms refusing to work properly if not given a rest, Merlin dried the spot best he could, grabbed his bucket and left, giving Sir Leon a smile as he passed.

Merlin awoke into confusion. For one, he was still fully dressed. Secondly, he was alone on Arthur’s bed which very obviously lacked its owner’s presence. Also – he was lying on top of the sheets.

Glancing out the window he became increasingly awake as he noticed how dark the sky was and how quiet the castle seemed. Merlin started to panic – Arthur was never gone this long. If he had gone back out on patrol, surely he would have come here first? Needed fresh clothing, supplies – if nothing else he would have shook Merlin awake and berated him for falling asleep on the prince’s bed. Obviously if Arthur couldn’t sleep, Merlin couldn’t.

Merlin shook the imaginary argument with Arthur out of his head and quietly left the room in case there were any lurkers. Once he had double-checked it was locked he pocketed the key and headed toward the last place he’d known Arthur had been.

The thing Merlin couldn’t figure out was why he’d still be in the Throne room? Surely the King had gone to bed by now – if war was imminent Arthur would have come back much less jovial, of that Merlin was sure. Even at his best, Arthur couldn’t hide his emotions from Merlin. Which meant something had come up that Arthur didn’t expect.

That thought scared Merlin more than anything else.

Merlin expected several things when he finally made it down to the throne room, but the scene he found didn’t include any of them.

Arthur was standing stock-still in the middle of the room, seemingly mesmerized by the throne before him. Merlin was extra-careful to ensure the heavy door closed silently as possible and then muttered a spell under his breath to lock it. He didn’t know what was going on with Arthur, but he definitely didn’t want anyone intruding before he found out.   
“Arthur?” Merlin didn’t rush to his side, but Arthur’s continued silence and calm demeanor didn’t fill Merlin with any sort of comfort. “Arthur? Talk to me, sire.”

Merlin figured it was worth a shot, and it worked. Arthur glanced over to where Merlin was standing next to him and Merlin had to resist the urge to gasp at the redness in his eyes.

The Crown Prince of Camelot shed tears for no man, after all.

Merlin risked placing his hand lightly on Arthur’s bicep, hoping he would at least accept the small gesture. When it wasn’t immediately rejected, Merlin risked speaking. “Arthur. Tell me what’s wrong. Whatever it is you know I’ll help.”

Merlin was about to give up and try something on his personal list of ‘most likely to land me in the stocks’ because Arthur was just *standing there* - until finally, something must have broken through and Arthur was speaking.

“There have been bandits attacking towns near the Mercian border. My father doesn’t feel we need to risk a full-scale war with Mercia right now by trying to figure out who is behind it. He’s content to let these raids continue.”

When nothing more was forthcoming, Merlin spoke up. “War never benefits either party, Arthur. Your father knows that.”

“My father knows nothing!” Arthur spat, startling Merlin with the vehemence of his tone. “He sends me out with my knights to greet the people, let them know their sovereign hasn’t forgotten them. But he has – if he ever knew…”

“The king does what he thinks is best, Arthur.”

Arthur abandoned his spot on the floor in favor of pacing. “But how can I ride out to the townspeople and hear their pleas for help and do nothing?!” Merlin visibly jumped when Arthur swung at a candle holder sitting idly by a pillar, the sound of the metal crashing to the ground overly-loud in the empty chamber. 

“You’re doing something, Arthur. You’re giving them a voice. Even if it does no good it’s far more than they would ever have had.”

“What good is a voice, Merlin, if it continues to fall on deaf ears.”

Merlin could tell mere words were not going to comfort the prince at this moment. Hoping he wouldn’t end up like the candle holder, Merlin purposefully grabbed Arthur’s arms and looked directly into his eyes, willing him to see. “You can’t be everywhere, Arthur. I know you wish to be, but there will be problems you can’t immediately solve, disputes you don’t hear about until it’s too late. Even when you are King.”

“You sound like my father.”

“Your father isn’t always wrong. When he is wrong, he can be very, very wrong – but his conviction and yours are the same. Don’t give that up. Hold onto it. Someday you will be king. And you’ll be a great one. You just have to remember why you want to be king. What about that means so much to you.”

Merlin dropped his hands away, giving the prince some space. He knew Arthur had been mentally tearing himself up for a while and he would need time to calm down. “Maybe you should go to bed, Arthur. You can’t do anything else tonight.”

Arthur looked around the empty chamber, sparing a glance for the candle holder that had fallen to his ire but made no move to right it. “Why did you come down here, Merlin?”

The prince looked directly at him and Merlin, recognizing the segue, cocked his head and gave Arthur one of his looks that said ‘are you daft, sire?’ “You didn’t come back! I mean, I scrubbed the stain off the floor out there at least twice over, then went to your chambers to ready it, figuring you’d be done soon. When I woke up, you still weren’t there. I got worried.”

“Worried,” Arthur parroted. “After, wait, after you woke up?”

“Yeah, I might’ve fallen asleep on your bed. Exhaustion. From all the scrubbing.” Merlin made a scrubbing motion with his hand only to stop when Arthur slapped it.

“I was down here worrying about my people and trying to solve important affairs of state and you were sleeping? In. My. Bed.”

“How did I know this was going to happen,” Merlin muttered.

“How did you know what was going to happen, Merlin?” Arthur asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“You were going to be a prat about my falling asleep. Because obviously if your royal arse isn’t sleeping then clearly I shouldn’t be, either.” Merlin rolled his eyes in his best imitation of ‘annoyed Arthur’. 

Arthur’s eyebrows shot upward and then he was laughing, free and un-burdened. The genuine laugh Merlin had come to realize very few people ever got to hear. He couldn’t help but chuckle a bit in response. He was happy. He knew Arthur was still upset and the morning would bring more sober thoughts. It was nice to see Arthur’s smile, though. Especially when directed at him. Arthur wrapped his arm around Merlin’s waist, pulling him close, all trace of laughter replaced with something else that caused Merlin to recall why it had been so lonely in Arthur’s bed. The kiss was loving but possessive. Arthur didn’t give Merlin any room to argue, just took what he wanted. Merlin relaxed letting Arthur have this from him. Gradually, Arthur’s demanding presence gave way to more exploratory kissing and Merlin let go of Arthur’s jacket to card his fingers through thick, golden strands. As Arthur separated their lips to trail hot, open mouthed kisses along Merlin’s jaw and neck Merlin took the opportunity to gasp out, “Unless you want to do it on the hard floor I suggest we take this somewhere else.”

“Mmmm…” was the response he got from Arthur before he finished placing wet kisses to every part of his neck and moved-on to Merlin’s collarbone. Letting go of Arthur’s hair, Merlin slowly ran his fingers down Arthur’s back, stopping to rest on his arse and pull Arthur to him. Both of them groaned as their erections brushed together. Looking over Arthur’s shoulder, Merlin muttered without thinking, “Well, there is always that convenient chair.”

Arthur stopped his assault and stepped back an inch to look directly at Merlin, the lust evident in his gaze. “Merlin, we couldn’t…”

Merlin had long stopped thinking with his brain when Arthur’s heat was this close, the evidence of his arousal heavy against his own. “Oh, I would.” Merlin let his voice drop low, “and if your crown wasn’t in your chambers I’d have you wear it while I…” 

Merlin didn’t get to finish the sentence. Arthur swept him up quickly and carried him the few feet to the throne. “What would you do to me, Merlin?” Arthur huffed the question as he busied himself with undressing Merlin as quickly as possible. Merlin in turn, un-laced Arthur’s breeches letting them fall so Arthur could step-out. He’d forgotten about the boots but when Arthur had Merlin completely naked, somehow managing to avoid being distracted by Merlin’s obvious arousal as he removed his shoes, he sat down on the throne. 

Arthur barely started to reach down to pull off a boot when Merlin reacted with a commanding “no.” At Arthur’s questioning look, Merlin looked directly at him no shame in his nudity and his own hardness demanding attention. “Leave them on.” 

Merlin didn’t think Arthur could look more wrecked. There he sat, lips kiss-swollen, hair mussed from Merlin’s fingers, tunic loose and breeches pooling around his boots. In the middle of it all, a patch of darker hair framing his jutting cock - hard, leaking and beckoning to Merlin. His mouth was practically watering at the thought. “God, I wish I brought oil,” Merlin groaned, bending to his knees and stroking Arthur’s length slowly. “I would climb into your lap and fuck myself on you.”

Arthur groaned, his cock twitching in Merlin’s loose grasp as he brought one hand down to gently card his fingers in Merlin’s hair. Merlin didn’t need to be told what to do next; he was a more-than-willing participant. He took what he could into his mouth, moaning shamelessly at the taste and feel of Arthur on his tongue. From the sounds his prince was making Merlin didn’t think he would last too long. It had been an emotional night, and Merlin was more than eager to help Arthur relax. His cheeks hollowed with suction as Merlin gripped Arthur’s length a bit firmer, just how he liked it. His efforts were rewarded several minutes later by Arthur’s breathy moans of, “Merlin, Merlin” and the hot splash of come across his tongue.

As Arthur sat there coming down from his high, Merlin decided he had been wrong. It was possible for him to look more wrecked. Merlin took himself in hand as he gazed at the sight before him – Arthur, boneless and sated, sagging into the throne. Just a few strokes and he was falling over the edge, come splattering out onto his fingers. Merlin slumped down, bracing himself with his clean hand on the floor, his head coming to rest on Arthur’s thigh. They stayed like that, their panting returning to normal breaths and Arthur’s hand once more coming to rest lightly on Merlin’s head. Things were almost back to normal when they heard a rattling sound. Merlin sat up, turning his head around as Arthur tensed and leaned forward. It wasn’t their imagination as the noise repeated – someone was trying to open the doors.

“Bugger,” Merlin spat, awkwardly standing and grabbing his clothes. Arthur leapt off the throne as if burnt, tucking in his tunic and lacing his breeches in record time. “See, you can dress yourself,” Merlin muttered.

“Shut up,” Arthur growled.

Merlin swallowed nervously and looked away, busying himself with dressing. He used his neckerchief to wipe the come from his hand and stuffed it in his pocket to deal with later. Arthur was all action, having been mostly dressed. He righted the candle holder, careful to keep the metal from scraping the floor. Merlin glanced at Arthur making his way toward the back entrance.

“Merlin, come on!” Arthur hissed.

As Arthur turned, Merlin stretched out his hand saying the spell to unlock the door then quickly turned and followed after Arthur. The back corridor was thankfully empty and they both stood silent, waiting to hear what would happen.

“Why wouldn’t the door open?” Merlin didn’t recognize the voice, but then he wasn’t that familiar with the night guards.

“I don’t know. We should have someone look at it in the morning. Maybe they just got stuck.”

The sound of footsteps could be heard exiting and Merlin heaved a sigh of relief when the sound of the heavy doors shutting echoed through the empty chamber.


	6. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some much-needed talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was smut for this prompt but I utterly fail at sex without meaning. What can I say. If that's wrong, I will never be right. :)

Merlin was still not a fan of traveling with Arthur and his Knights. He felt at ease on his horse, but not after hours of riding. His banter with Arthur was well-known among the Knights of Camelot, but after a long day on horseback Merlin felt more like a portable court jester than a manservant. Perhaps everyone else saw it as part of his job; Merlin resented that. He knew Arthur wasn't the only one who held the outward opinion that servants did not make appropriate friends. Arthur being the prince most likely stayed their tongues. Merlin held no illusions that if Arthur was a regular knight, their relationship would cause them both more hardship. It had been a bright, clear day without the biting chill of wind and Merlin supposed he should be a bit more grateful. The towns they had visited were still prone to attacks but a pattern was emerging. Merlin didn't believe it would be long until they were able to hunt down those responsible. If nothing else, Merlin would be glad for it on Arthur's behalf. Ever since their illicit tryst in the throne room, Arthur had been unusually distant. 

Ok, that wasn't exactly fair. 

Arthur was his usual self – arrogant, prattish and baiting Merlin into playing their usual verbal games. He smiled, laughed, teased and for the most part carried on as he ever had. Merlin almost wished he didn't make a habit out of studying Arthur. If he simply could see him how others did it would hurt, but he would be able to believe this stage of their relationship was either over or would happen again when Arthur decided it was necessary. Yet, he did make a habit of studying Arthur. Lately, he noticed Arthur watching him when he thought Merlin wasn't aware. A few times he made innocent eye contact hoping Arthur wouldn't break it, but he always did. The looks weren't his normal 'puzzling over my manservant' looks Merlin had come to expect after he played a role in some major event. The looks seemed less intrigued and more troubled. That bothered Merlin more than the secrets he kept. Merlin knew Arthur must regret their last encounter, probably more than he did. He felt a little guilty, of course, but the longer Arthur pretended that nothing had ever been different between them, the more the guilt was replaced by anger. 

What was Arthur's problem?

Merlin knew the prince could be emotionally constipated – it seemed to come with his breeding and expectations. This crossed the line in Merlin's opinion. Besides, it was driving him mad, not being able to indulge himself in all his own fantasies as he'd become accustomed. They had been steadily riding on from town to town for almost a fortnight, now. Accommodations being what they were, he often shared a room with Arthur. Merlin vowed that before they made it back to Camelot, he was going to find out exactly what the trouble was with his royal pratness.

“I think we’re close. The mountains can hide a small band of thieves but there aren’t many places to hold a decent base of operations.”  
Merlin heard Arthur's words and grunted a non-committal reply. He let Arthur speak to him of battle strategy and how they were going to go about finding the bandits. Merlin kept up his grunted responses, allowing his fingers to complete the rote task of turning down their bed linens and changing into his night clothes. His own mind had also been filled with strategies and battle plans of a different variety.

Getting Arthur to tell him exactly what was going on in his head.

“We should rest up, Merlin. We ride out in the morning to search the northern face.”  
Merlin knew this was a great opportunity - Arthur announcing sleep was akin to him saying ‘I’m bored and wound up, humor me.’ Unfortunately, Merlin had yet to come up with a way to start the conversation that didn’t sound needy and petulant. As he crawled into bed and turned away from Arthur, he felt the movement of the air seconds before a pillow whacked him straight on his head. Typical.

“What’s wrong, Merlin?”

Merlin nearly replied ‘nothing, Arthur’, simply out of habit. Both of them would know it was a lie, though. Merlin turned back over to face Arthur; he was looking at him with the same look he’d used for Merlin for some time now. Encouraged that Arthur might not run away, Merlin found his voice.  
“What’s going on?” Merlin could see Arthur’s lips starting to form a sarcastic retort like ‘we’re chasing bandits, Merlin’ and he quickly amended his question. “What’s going on with us?”

Arthur rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, clearly lost as to what he should say. Merlin was disheartened but determined to see this through - for both their sakes. 

“Contrary to your opinion, Arthur, I am not a girl. I’m not lying here waiting for flowers or poetry - I just want you to be honest with me.” Merlin swallowed around the lump forming in his throat. Here he was, asking Arthur to be honest with him. Merlin did his best not to let his discomfort show - Arthur would interpret it incorrectly.

“Nothing’s wrong, Merlin,” Arthur sighed. “That’s the problem.”

Merlin sat up, completely confused and wanting to be ready for whatever Arthur might throw at him next. Verbally or physically. “I don’t understand.”

“I had sex on my father’s throne, Merlin!”

“It’ll be your throne someday,” Merlin offered, weakly.

“That’s not the point!” Arthur hissed, obviously frustrated. “Do you have any idea what would have happened if someone had caught us?”

“Dungeons? Stocks? Sorry, Arthur but I am quite familiar with those and I can’t be all that upset. I can see why you might be, though.” Merlin knew he was baiting Arthur, and it probably was going to backfire, but what did he have to lose now?

Arthur sat up as well, turning toward Merlin and looking as mad as Merlin had ever seen him. “Please tell me you are not making light of this situation, Merlin.”

“I don’t want to, Arthur, really. I get it. But I won’t let you just pretend nothing ever happened between us! It’s not fair.” Merlin ducked his head, not wanting Arthur to see the emotions he knew were displayed on his face. 

“Pretend nothing happened? Is that what you think I’ve been doing?” Arthur scrubbed a hand over his face and poured himself a cup of water from the pitcher beside the bed. Merlin watched as his Adams apple bobbed, the liquid being swallowed all in one go. Once Arthur had replaced the cup, he looked directly at Merlin for a few silent moments. “Perhaps I have.” The silence continued, heavy and uncomfortable between them until Merlin couldn't stand it.

“It’s alright, Arthur. I’ve told you enough times that you’ll be a great king and I’ll be by your side. That won’t ever change. Don’t worry about it.” He smiled at Arthur, hoping it came across as teasing yet knowing he probably looked like he was about to cry. When no response was immediate, Merlin turned back over once again and uttered a soft “Goodnight”.

He knew he didn’t have a prayer of sleeping but he hoped at least Arthur would. They had a long day ahead. The other side of the room was quiet for what seemed like more than mere minutes until he heard the rustling of Arthur standing up. Merlin figured he was going to complain to someone of Merlin’s alleged snoring and sleep somewhere else. Hopefully he wouldn’t go wandering off in the middle of the night - because then Merlin would have to tail him and he really *did* need sleep. 

Which he didn’t have a prayer of actually getting.

The bed was suddenly much smaller as Arthur lay down behind him, jostling his slighter frame and wrapping his arms around Merlin. “Nothing is different,” Arthur whispered in his ear, the emotion evident in his voice, “and that’s the problem.”   
Merlin shifted a bit and placed his hands over Arthur’s to let him know he was awake and listening. “I wanted something to be wrong with this. I wanted to feel something other than what I do. I’ve tried.” Merlin felt the struggle of Arthur trying to hold onto his emotions and he squeezed his hands in comfort. “Merlin...” Arthur faltered but as Merlin tried to wiggle around to face him, he found himself held steadily in place by strong arms. “Don’t,” Arthur commanded, then a hesitant “Please.” Merlin nodded, hoping Arthur could tell.  
Arthur took a few steadying breaths and nuzzled Merlin’s neck. Merlin tried to ignore the white hot bolt of pleasure the small action sent down his spine and concentrated on what Arthur was trying to say. “I regret what we did... I regret the place, the action.” Arthur fell silent again and Merlin stayed as he was not daring to even breathe too deeply and break the new mood that had settled over them with Arthur’s confessions. “I don’t regret you, Merlin. I would never have been there with anyone else.”

Merlin couldn’t help but smile at that. He’d been waiting to hear Arthur say it for weeks now. He wanted to turn around and tell Arthur ‘I love you too, you giant prat’ but knew he couldn’t. Instead he settled for snuggling closer to Arthur and squeezing his hands, again. “It scares me,” Arthur admitted. “I love Gwen, I really do. I want her to be happy; I see her becoming a queen the people will love.” Arthur nuzzled Merlin’s neck again and breathed into his hair, kissing the back of his head. “You...I have no idea what to do with you, Merlin. Ever since I met you I knew I couldn’t be rid of you.”

“Right, and I’m sure you lamented that,” Merlin chuckled not able to keep silent.

“Oh, I did, Merlin, I did. When father made you my servant I thought about asking after his health.” Arthur’s voice sounded a bit lighter and Merlin was grateful. 

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t thrilled to be serving your supercilious arse.”

“Serving me is a privilege, Merlin, you’d do well to remember that.” 

“I know what supercilious means, Arthur, you don’t have to demonstrate,” Merlin rolled his eyes and laced his fingers with Arthur’s to let him know he understood.

They stayed silent for a few moments, relaxing into each other, their breathing becoming shallow and synchronized. Merlin was sure he could fall asleep now knowing Arthur was right there with him. They would find the bandits soon and be back to Camelot before month’s end. It was an ambitious thought but one he refused to let go.

“You really mean it, don’t you,” Arthur mused quietly. “You really will be at my side no matter what.”

“Of course I will, Arthur. I want to see the king you’ll become. I’ll be there to serve you. No matter what.”

Arthur squeezed him closer, removing his arm from underneath and leaning up to place a kiss on Merlin’s mouth. “I don’t want you to serve me, Merlin. I want more from you than that.”

Merlin was able to wiggle around without Arthur’s arms pinning him down and this time Arthur let him. “Arthur...” Merlin kissed him back, chaste and light. “I always do so much more than serve you. I am your friend. You know that, right?”

Arthur kissed him again in answer and Merlin let him lead the kiss, not wanting to break the mood. He cursed his weakness for his future king only briefly as he chased down Arthur’s lips again. The subsequent kisses were just as worth it, in Merlin’s opinion. Soft. Inviting. Merlin laid his head down by Arthur’s shoulder, hands loosely hugging him and his legs straddling the prince’s thighs. Despite their arousal and the press of their erections together, neither man was in any rush to do something about it. Arthur reached down to grab the blanket and pull it over them, shifting Merlin slightly. Once comfortably settled, Arthur rested a hand lightly on the small of Merlin’s back, the other coming up to card in his hair.   
“I love you, Arthur,” Merlin mumbled, half asleep already from the steady pressure of Arthur’s fingers on his scalp.

“No words, Merlin,” Arthur turned his head and kissed Merlin’s earlobe softly. “for you, I have no words.”


	7. Onward to King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-Coronation Smut

Merlin knew he was pacing nervously and had probably been making everyone around him nervous all day, but he didn't care. 

In a few hours, Arthur would be king. 

Merlin pulled at the unfamiliar tunic for what was probably the hundredth time, silently cursing the addition to his much more comfortable and familiar clothing. He had never cared that he was “Prince Arthur's” manservant – why did Arthur becoming king change anything? It didn't, in Merlin's opinion.

Except it did. It changed so much that Merlin often felt giddy with the possibilities. 

“I hope you haven't forgotten anything, Merlin.” Arthur swept in, regal as always and only showing a slight hint of the nervousness that Merlin knew swept through him at the very utterance of the word “king”. 

“Your clothes are clean, pressed and ready for you, my lord." Merlin knew it would aggravate Arthur, but he also needed to get used to it. Arthur just tossed him a dirty look and held his arms up in silent request. “Still not able to undress yourself, sire?” Merlin efficiently began to undress Arthur in the way he always did when playing the role of dutiful servant. Merlin often wondered if he would go insane before he lived out his destiny. 

Friend. Lover. Servant. Protector.

He had so many different roles where Arthur was concerned it made his head spin. Even after several years of practice, he would often forget which one he was performing at any given time. The dressing and armoring came most naturally to him, and therefore gave him the least trouble. As he efficiently stripped-off Arthur's clothing, he didn't even glance at the p...King to catch his expression. If he had, he might have been more prepared for what came next. As Arthur stood there before him in nothing but his trousers, he suddenly gripped Merlin's arms, effectively stilling his progress. “Why is it, Merlin, that you still have so many clothes on?”

Arthur's hot breath caressed his ear and caused Merlin to shudder. “I'm not the one who has to change for coronation, sire,” Merlin managed to stutter.

“Oh, right. Well, I think no matter what happens I'll still be crowned King. There's a shortage of princes to fill the role, after all.”

Merlin could only moan as Arthur proceeded to devour his neck and shoulder blades after his rather conceited and totally accurate assessment of the future proceedings. “Of course, no one would deny you your moment of royal glory,” Merlin gasped. He knew it wasn't the best comeback he'd ever produced but under the circumstances, he figured it was good enough.

“Mmmm,” was his only acknowledgment as Arthur continued his assault, deftly removing Merlin's clothing about as easily as Merlin usually removed his own. “When did you get so good at this?” Merlin managed to ask. 

“Around the time you got good at inventing reasons for why you needed to be at my beck and call all hours of the day and night,” Arthur moaned into his skin. 

“Right,” Merlin gasped, not wanting to think about anything much longer. His loyalty peeked through, however, reminding Arthur, “you have to be in the throne room in less than two hours.”

Arthur just chuckled. “I think we can be done by then.” 

“Sad, isn't it?” Merlin huffed. Arthur chuckled, his laughter buried in Merlin's skin.

“We'll have plenty of opportunities to be unhurried and lazy,” Arthur replied, stepping-back and smiling at Merlin. 

“Are you sure?” Merlin hated to voice the reminder, but he couldn't help it. “These next few months will be very busy for you, Arthur. Everyone will want an opportunity to align themselves with Camelot and it's new King.”

Arthur stilled, bringing a hand up to caress a pale cheekbone. “Merlin... I will make time for you. Time for us.”

Merlin leaned forward breaking Arthur's touch and bringing their lips together, softly. “I know you will.”

“I'm the King, after all,” Arthur continued, “and I make the rules.” 

Merlin laughed. “I have no doubt of your determination.” Hooking his slender fingers through the loops, Merlin quietly unlaced Arthur's trousers leaving them both naked. “Tick-tock,” Merlin sing-songed as he pushed an unresistant Arthur toward the bed.

“I'm going to be King, Merlin,” Arthur huffed. “You really shouldn't be so bossy.”

“I apologize, your highness,” Merlin chuckled – Arthur didn't miss the gleam in his eye or the way his arousal twitched. Arthur's own eyes darkened with lust as he watched his lover crawl onto the bed and slowly position himself, hands above his head and legs spread in invitation. “What would you have me do to please you, sire?”

Arthur hastily climbed onto the bed and straddled Merlin, licking a path up his chest. “Oh, my love, we haven't got enough time.”

Merlin's grin was wicked. “I suppose you'll just have to settle for fucking me, then.”

Arthur hung his head as if in shame before leaning down to kiss along Merlin's neck. “For my last unofficial act as Prince, I think I can live with that.” Breaking away and causing a whine from Merlin, Arthur opened his side cabinet to fetch oil. Sitting back, he opened the vial and grabbed Merlin's hand. “Slick yourself up for me. I want to watch you.”

Merlin groaned and accepted the oil Arthur poured-out, rubbing his fingers to warm it. Eyes never leaving Arthur's face, Merlin reached down with both hands, gently kneading his sac with one hand as his slick fingers explored his entrance.

“Bend your knees...let me see you fuck yourself.” Arthur's voice was rough with lust and he absently stroked his cock as he watched his lover prepare himself. As Merlin pushed in a second finger, his eyes finally closed and his hips rocked forward, seeking friction. 

“Oh...Arthur...”

“Yes, love.. God, you're beautiful like this,” Arthur crooned. “Open yourself for me.”

Merlin gasped as his fingers found the special spot inside him. “I need you Arthur.” Once again his gaze locked onto Arthur and the future king saw the want and love reflected there. 

“Almost, Merlin... please, just a little more, for me.”

Merlin nodded, giving up on speech as he added a third finger. Arthur watched awed as the slim, pale fingers worked open the muscle causing Merlin to gasp and buck his hips. A few more thrusts and Arthur had enough of watching. “Stop... fuck, Merlin.”

Merlin looked up at Arthur again, eyes slightly glazed but expression no less wicked. “Now what, highness? Lie back and think of Camelot?”

Arthur knew what Merlin was doing and he knew it worked every. Single. Time.

“Lie back and enjoy it, idiot,” Arthur growled as he lined up his cock and pushed in fully. 

“Fuck!” Merlin cried out, legs instinctively hugging Arthur's waist. 

“I intend to,” Arthur grunted setting a sharp pace he knew wouldn't last. Merlin's hand wrapped around his own cock and Arthur didn't stop him. There was no way he could; their grunts and moans the only conversation they were capable of having. Too soon, Arthur felt his balls tighten and he bent forward drawing Merlin into a wet kiss as he reached his release. As he came down, the kisses became more languid and Arthur reached down to join his hand with Merlin's, guiding him toward his own release.

Sated and pleasure-buzzed, they lay side-by-side for long moments in comfortable silence. Finally, Merlin forced himself to stand and dress.

“It's a shame I probably couldn't convince the council that you must remain naked at all times.”

Merlin laughed. “I don't think you could convince me, Arthur.” Merlin pulled the last of his clothing on; the new tunic emblazoned with a gold dragon, and began to lay-out and straighten Arthur's coronation garb. “It gets very cold in winter – not to mention walking your dogs and mucking-out the stables would be very awkward.” 

As he sat up and raised his arms for Merlin to pull on his undershirt, Arthur frowned. “Fine. Perhaps that would be a bit excessive.” 

Merlin smiled fondly, adjusting the shirt and reaching for Arthur's breeches. A few more layers later, Merlin was fastening the clasp of Arthur's cloak, both of them silently admiring Arthur in the mirror. 

“Would you agree to just in my chambers?”

Merlin smoothed-down the cloak and leaned-in to place a soft kiss on Arthur's lips. “If it pleases your highness.”


End file.
